


Comfort

by Enochian_Joke



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, F/M, Human Castiel, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochian_Joke/pseuds/Enochian_Joke
Summary: Continuing on the "Meg is alive and well" train, Meg and Castiel meet up after the events of season 8, and have a talk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Megstiel post-season fix-it fic. This time a short one, set way back, right after the angels fell. Castiel is still a mess because, when is he not.

Disoriented and injured, Castiel couldn't make sense of what had happened or where he was. What were supposed to be his last memories were all jumbled and blurry. He didn't know how he could possibly be standing up when everything hurt so much (and why wasn't he healing?) and where he was even walking to. It felt as though he woke up from a dream into another dream. 

He tried to heal himself. It didn't work. When he stumbled upon what looked like the place where humans would bring their clothes to get it washed, he entered it, intending to ask where he was because it was the first place he'd seen that was opened that late at night. The only other person there observed him warily, as though trying to determine whether he was a threat or not. Castiel smiled, trying to look friendly and harmless. He didn't know how successful he was, given that his neck and shirt were covered in blood. Even though the placement of the blood brought back flashing images of white walls and confining chairs, he didn't think the blood was his.

Immediately, he felt relieved. If the blood wasn't his, then he couldn't have healed himself because he wasn't injured. He felt as though he was, but maybe he was just tired. He snuck deeper into the washing room, trying to find a corner away from curious eyes. When he got there he tried to clean his clothes. It didn't work the first time he tried, but he tried again, and then once more. And then once more. Panic flooded his body in cold sweat. He tried again.

When that didn't work, he tried teleporting. What he realized then was that the absence of warmth and the persistent feeling of physical pain could, and did, only mean one thing. 

He grabbed random clothes off of a hanger and ran out into the night, forgoing asking for direction in his haste, and ignoring the protesting voice of the person who'd been in there with him. 

***

Two weeks later, somewhat more lucid, Castiel had been in the process of digging through trash when a car drove by with a loud rumble and settled on a non-designated parking space area next to three other trash cans.  
The smell of gasoline somehow overpowered the pungent smell of rotten food. Castiel grimaced and covered his nose with a tattered and equally stench ridden sleeve of a stolen blue jacket.

The next thing he heard was the sound of high heels on the pavement after a particularly violent slamming of the car doors. This alerted him enough to stop digging and turn to where the sound was coming from.

„Well, aren't you a pathetic little homeless puppy?“ Sultry and perpetually incredibly bored voice drawled out. Castiel allowed himself a moment of pause before he rasped out: „Meg?“ His hands were still in the trash so he pulled them out and wiped them on his jeans. Meg didn't bother to hide her disgust but she did pull a tight smile as well.

„See you're doing fine.“ She said as she looked him over.

Castiel huffed and shrugged. „I know it must be difficult to believe, but I have had worse.“ He followed this by moving closer to Meg, examining her as though he couldn't quite comprehend how she could possibly have been standing there, alive, her face unblemished by bruises, her hair again dark brown.

„And I'm way tougher than I look, Clarence. Certainly cleaner.“ She made that disgusted face again but her features softened almost immediately. She then looked at Castiel in a way he couldn't completely make sense of though he didn't think it was something bad.

„Come.“ She said and motioned for him to follow, presumably, to her car.

Castiel had no inclination to wonder whether he should go or not, given that Meg's company was certainly preferable to hanging around the garbage cans and there was always a chance she had food somewhere even if she didn't have to eat. 

They had been driving in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft music playing on the radio, when Castiel turned from where he had been looking at the passing scenery beyond the busy highway.

„I'm sorry.“ He said, turning to Meg.

„Don't be.“ Meg waved him off. „A chance to kill Crowley came up and I took it, and if it enabled to you to escape, even better.“

„Did you...kill him?“ He asked to which Meg scoffed and and sighed. „No. But I will, it's only a matter of time.“

Castiel nodded in agreement even while anxiety spiked up in his guts. „Crowley is very powerful...I...I'm not of much use anymore but if you need help I will help you.“ He offered earnestly.

Meg look at him and smiled. „It's okay Castiel. I know for a fact he's not quite as powerful as he used to be. Your buddies have him, he's all tied up I hear.“

Castiel remembered then, the brothers did indeed trap Crowley in a church and were about to finish the last trial. Sam was horribly ill. Castiel wondered if he was even still alive, and if he was, how long until he died. „Do you know for certain they have him, both of them?“ 

Meg took a second to think, her eyes squinting a bit. She hummed. „Not sure, but they are probably both alive and as well as they can be, if that's what you're worried about. You know they just don't stay dead.“

„Neither do I.“ Castiel supplied gravely.

„Oh stop it. If I had as many lives as you...you know, I thought I was done for. That bastard had just about stabbed me in the guts. I was lucky I had help.“ Meg countered.

„Sam?“ Castiel asked.

Meg chuckled and patted the wheel of the car a few times. „Oh no, no, I sent Sam back for you.“ 

„Why did you do that?“ Castiel demanded, moving up from where he had been leaning on the car seat, suddenly frustrated and angry. 

Meg shrugged. „I sent him to protect you and his dumbass brother. Crowley was mine to take care of. And before you say anything, don't. I know I fucked up. After all, we did ward the place, it's not like you were in immediate danger. I was lucky those demons showed up when they had. Damn though, I thought they were Crowley's buddies but then they started attacking him. He escaped with his tail between his legs.“ 

„Do you know anything about them?“ Castiel asked, worried now more than anything else. 

„No. Not yet. I sent someone to track one of them, I should know something by tomorrow night.“ She explained. 

„I'm glad you're alive Meg.“ Castiel said after a brief moment of silence. „And I would like it if you had as many lives as I seem to because I do not deserve them nor do I want them.“

Meg looked skeptic. „And I do?“ 

„I think so, yes.“ He said. Meg smirked and focused her eyes back on the road ahead. „If you say so Clarence.“ 

„Where are we going?“ Castiel asked after a while.

Meg glanced at him. „There's an apartment downtown with a nice bathroom which I want you to use as soon as we get there.“

Castiel managed to feel quite a bit embarrassed between wondering how Meg acquired the apartment and how effective it was to be hiding anywhere other than in the deepeset most darkest places in the world when dangerous creatures were looking for you, most certainly in inocuous disguises. 

„How did you find me?“ He rushed to fit in: „...If you have then the angels might know where I am too, it's not safe to be with me.“ 

Meg looked at him this time beyond a passing glance and what he saw now was most certainly a look of utter disbelief and what had to be anger.

„It's not fucking safe to be anywhere, with anyone, these days.“ Meg's tone of voice was harsh, but it went somber and her face softened once she got the words out. All the way until they reached the apartment she'd been lost in thought and Castiel would have been hard pressed to interrupt her.

The actual apartment was nothing to sneer at but it was small and spartan for the most part. It seemed like Meg wouldn't be staying there for long which soothed Castiel's fears that she may be captured. Staying at one place for too long would have been incredibly reckless.

„Take the shower, I'll order up.“ She said and Castiel obeyed.

The water on the skin of what was still technically not his body felt not entirely different from how it had felt before. He hadn't ever been completely devoid of feeling, so when his body had been immersed in water, even through a slew of Leviathan inhabiting his vessel, and even in Purgatory, where everything felt less real, it had an effect on him. Only this time, this time it felt as thought it was actually doing something. Before, any and every effect on his vessel could have been whisked away down to it's last trace by a mere motion but now, now it stayed, it was constant. The dirt on his skin was washing away and the warm water eased the ache in his muscles. 

„I see you're in a better mood.“ Meg noted, amused, from where she was perched on a window sill, smoking.

Castiel nodded in agreement, settling on the made bed. Meg put out the cigarette before she got up to rummage through a small closet.

„Want some clothes big boy?“ She asked, fishing out a large tacky flower printed dress. „What? Everything else in here is too small for you.“ 

Castiel regarded the dress with a passing glance. He settled for looking at Meg, who apparently waited for his reaction before she would hand him clothes.

„Did you kill someone to get this apartment?“ He asked in a low voice, frowning.

Meg opened her mouth to speak but then halted and threw the dress into Castiel's face before speaking.

„No. Now wear the damn thing or don't, I don't care.“

Despite its size it was tight around Castiel's shoulders and arms but pleasantly flowey down to his calves. Castiel was grateful for the clothes because he did start to feel cold once he exited the shower. Meg offering him clothes was yet another blessing he did not really deserve. 

Meg settled next to him after he bundled himself into the blankets, procuring a small flask of alcohol out of the pocket of her leather jacket.  
„This will warm you too. It's cheap whiskey but it's alcohol so it will do.“ She offered the flask to Castiel. He accepted it without protest and took a sip.

„It's vile.“ He said, but didn't stop on one sip.

Meg stole it from him soon enough, downing a significantly larger amount when the door rang. Castiel startled, thinking it was the owners.

„Relax puppy, it's just our delivery.“ Meg got up and opened the door. Castiel was surprised to see she had money to pay for the food she ordered. It also occurred to him he didn't ask what the food was going to be. Not that it made any difference to someone who had spent a large amount of the past few weeks digging through garbage.

It turned out to be a pepperoni pizza. It was unpleasantly spicy and it burned his tongue but Castiel kept on eating, knowing he was in no position to turn down food. Meg ate her own half, looking at him the whole time. Castiel only noticed it when he finished his last slice.

„So you have to eat now huh? Wow. That's so sad.“ She said in mock empathy but Castiel didn't think there wasn't any sincerity in the statement. 

„It's strange.“ Castiel added, leaning on the wall next to which the bed was placed, full of food, still processing the feeling of this one more thing that was a constant now, one more thing he couldn't get rid of in a matter of seconds.

„Yeah I bet.“ Meg agreed. „So, what else is new? You gonna be a little horndog now that you're human?“ She asked, this time sounding genuinely curious. Castiel frowned and dug himself deeper into his blanket.

„I'm not human, I'm just...graceless. And I don't know what you mean by ~horndog~ .“

Meg smirked and grazed his crotch with her hand. „I'm asking if you can get it up now.“

Castiel gripped her hand in what would have been a vice grip just a few months ago but was now merely firm but easily broken out of if the person you were holding happened to be housing a demon. 

„No.“ Castiel said, trying his hardest not to betray a sense of dread the topic awoke in him and the fact that he didn't know for certain what was going to happen to this body now that they were fused in a way they haven't been before.

„And don't touch me unless I give you permission.“ He demanded with as much force as he could gather. Meg was far stronger than him now and it had only just then occurred him how easily she could hurt him.

„Okay, okay, no touching.“ She offered up her hands in surrender.

„Why are you even asking me this?“ 

Meg shrugged and brought back the flask from where it ended up on the edge of the bed and took a sip.

„I'm bored and I want to know what makes you tick now that you're...graceless.“ She said by way of explanation, accentuating the offered word, as if boredom and a somewhat worrying need to deconstruct him was enough of a reason to be uncomfortably intrusive. Castiel figured he could forgive her if she continued sharing that flask with him and indeed, if she refrained from touching him so brazenly. Even though the initial feeling had been unpleasant Castiel found that the more he drank it, and on a full stomach, the less awful it tasted.

„I can't see you anymore.“ Castiel supplied, breaking the awkward silence.

Meg appeared to be clueless as to what he was referring to so he took a deep breath and continued. „I can't see your face. I can only see your vessel. It's, disconcerting.“ 

Meg huffed out a small laugh. „Aww, you miss my smoky mangled self? I'm touched.“

Castiel scoffed and stole the flask from her to take a sip. „I didn't say I miss you, I just said I find it disconcerting.“

Meg stole it back to drink from it, returning it to him immediately after. She then leaned against the wall next to Castiel, shoulders touching. „Whatever. So, you can only see this face now?“ Castiel nodded.

„Huh, so...do you like it?“ Meg tried for nonchalance but her voice did reveal a hint of genuine interest.

„I like your hair. It's brown again.“ He said.

Meg twirled a lock of it with her finger in a deliberate show off. „And neatly combed. I like this girl's hair too.“

Castiel froze. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask about the vessel. And it had been so long since he was alone in this body, he hadn't even really spared it any thought beyond the underlying grief which was always there anyway. 

He looked down at his hands then and a curious tremor passed through him. He turned to Meg. „Is the girl...?“

Meg hummed, her attention on him again when before it was still on that lock of hair. „Yeah no, we got that sorted immediately after my second...possession. This meatsuit is all mine.“ She drawled the last word out and tapped herself where the vessel's heart was, in mock pride.

Castiel entertained the idea of asking her what happened to the girl but found that he was afraid of the answer as much as he was afraid of feeling nothing (or too much of everything) when he got it. 

„So, is yours still in there? It must have been hell for the poor guy.“ Again, there was mockery in her tone but there appeared to be genuine something in there too and Castiel wondered why she even cared enough to ask, why she even cared enough to give him a ride, to give him food, to talk to him. 

He'd thought he was completely alone.

„He's not.“ Was all he could stand to reveal.

***

Sometime that night, after Meg had smoked a whole pack of menthols and went out to buy new ones, after they'd stared at the ocker walls of the small apartment in silence for what amounted to several hours, Meg said: „I would really love it if we fucked. Just making an upfront offer.“

Castiel stiffened against himself, his reason telling him it was good of her to have asked and that she most likely wouldn't do anything without his consent while also telling him he could take her down if he had to because he still knew the exorcism spells.

But then also, also that he might not be as opposed to it as he'd initially thought. 

Shame overcame him suddenly, at this inner acknowledgment of fear which seemed to be making him anxious and skittish, vulnerable. Ever since Naomi made him realize what had been done to him, but maybe even since before that (because deep inside somewhere he probably knew), there'd been a fear in him stowed off only by the fact that most parts of himself were still present within him even if they'd been repressed, parts that were no longer there. 

It was irrational, but he was convinced that if he fell under whatever desires he'd had, even though they weren't exclusively human, he'd somehow seal the deal and would never be able to come back from it. Maybe he'd fall even deeper than he could have anticipated and the unknown was something all too frightening. His fear was, very clearly, on the surface now, brought to life by the condensing of his being into the frailty of humanity. What Metatron had done to him, after having already been violated enough, he shuddered at the memory but, he knew, it was going to continue to affect his behavior no matter whom he was with.

„You're thinking way too much about this Clarence, I can already tell you that. Yes or no, it's fine either way, I got booze to last us all night in case you chicken out.“

Castiel looked at her with thinly veiled fear. 

„I just mean, if we don't fuck, we can drink the night away and I promise I'll keep my hands to myself.“ Meg clarified lightly, putting her hands up once again.

Castiel nodded, mute and stiff. 

„Wanna try cigarettes?“ She asked, handing him her pack as a sort of a peace offering. Castiel glanced at it then turned away. There was nothing in that pack that was even remotely interesting to him.

„Sour puppy. Fine, gonna go find something strong. Whoever lives here must have something stored somewhere.“

But before she could get up Castiel grabbed the end of her leather jacket in a weak grip, his hand trembling even though he tried his best to steady it.

„Is that all I'm here for?“ He asked earnestly, if only a little bit resentful. Meg had to take a moment to sort out the question.

„What, to drink? No, but we might as well.“ She said. Castiel frowned and looked away. 

„Yeah, okay, I'm gonna go get us some hard hitting booze. Wait here, be good.“ 

But Castiel didn't wait. He followed after her and had entered the kitchen just as she'd fished out what looked like a bottle of scotch. „Aren't you a little rebel. I told you to wait there.“ She said, albeit jokingly, Castiel still felt reprimanded and somewhat irritated.

„I meant to ask...am I only here because you want to fuck me?“ Even if Castiel tried to make it seem as though he didn't care either way, his voice cracked against his will, no inflection in his pronunciation, which came ever so easily with power and security, seemed to elude him. 

Meg looked at him with what he knew was pity and he felt it. The connection with his vessel he'd never experienced before. Every hit he'd ever gotten, emotional or otherwise, didn't hurt in the same way this hurt even if too many things came close. It felt as though someone had clutched his vessel's heart, his heart, in their hand and wasn't about to let go. It was the different physicality of it that threw him. Castiel finally understood the meaning of that metaphor. He suspected it had more to do with everything than any one thing, in this case Meg, but that didn't stop the hurt so it didn't seem to matter much at that moment where it came from.

„I'm not gonna lie to you, I did expect sex. We had an agreement, if I remember correctly.“

Castiel didn't know nor did he care to understand why everything felt bad, why his stomach seemed to be twisting, all he cared about was trying to get it to go away. 

He moved to get the scotch from Meg who stopped him with one hand, the other hiding the bottle behind her. Annoyed, he moved to get it again, but she evaded him. Placing the bottle on the counter she gripped Castiel's wrist from where his hand was about to touch the bottle and the other one with her other hand. Castiel wouldn't look at her but she spoke anyway.

„Normally, I take whatever I want, however I want, but you, with you I have this disgustingly annoying feeling which doesn't let me do anything to you, get it? I couldn't even if I wanted to. I don't care what we do here. We can drink, you can sleep, or we can talk.“

Castiel sighed a deep weary sigh and sort of slumped. It was hard to maintain a posture when every bone in his body hurt. „I didn't agree to anything back then but I do want it. I simply...I'm...“ 

Meg touched his face then and Castiel flinched slightly, willing himself to stay firm and steady. „Aw, Clarence, you're scared.“ 

Castiel tensed and slapped her hand away. „Do not mock me.“ He countered, strength only barely present in his voice and even less in his body. 

Meg smiled a smile which was neither a smirk nor a sneer, and all it did was make Castiel feel pitied again. He didn't know what to do with what he got even if, when he said this wasn't the worst he's been, he hadn't been lying. Being made to forget things, being meddled with as though he was part of a machine instead of a living being, that, that had been so much worse than being hungry, or cold, or filthy, in a constant state of frightening corporeality. 

But the guilt, the loss, the overwhelming sense of profound discomfort and fear, all of it made it impossible for him to function and, even though it filled him with terror to even think it, freedom did not feel as appealing anymore when the price he'd paid for it was too great and, even as he indulged in showers and alcohol and company he didn't deserve to have, angels were scattered all over the Earth, confused, alone, terrified, angry, resentful, furious. Distantly he thought of Dean and his heart clenched again. He felt like he finally understood something he couldn't have grasped before. He lamented the timing. 

„Castiel...“ He startled at his name and for a moment couldn't quite place it. It sounded like many different voices, all in various tones, all in various times. His head hurt.

„I want it to stop.“ He said, soft and low, looking up then down at Meg. „I don't deserve it, but I have to make it stop.“ Only a year ago he would have known exactly what to say in the most blunt way possible. He'd spent so much time trying to gather words to make everyone understand, to make everyone comprehend why he was doing what he was doing, where he was coming from. It seemed appropriate that now he'd have no adequate words to use, if the words he'd used were ever truly adequate in the first place (how does one even begin to explain why carnage ever seems appropriate?). He didn't know anymore. There were a lot of things he no longer knew how to best convey, not that it was ever easy, but now, now everything seemed downright impossible.

He could see Meg was about to go for his lips but she stopped before she could even lift herself up on her toes to reach him better. „So wait, does this mean we fuck or we drink?“ 

Castiel didn't bother to respond verbally, instead he kissed her in much the same manner he did that one time long ago, only this time around there was desperation and passion while curiosity only lingered as an afterthought, focused more intently on what was to come.

„You gonna regret this in the morning?“ Meg asked, breathless, when the kiss stopped. Castiel mumbled: „I suspect not as much as I'd regret the hangover.“ 

Meg scoffed and pushed him away. „So I'm an alternative to copious alcohol intake? That hurts a girl's feelings.“ 

Castiel moved back to her, his hand caressing her hair. He tucked it behind her ear and cupped her face. „No.“ He said before he kissed her again.

Meg stopped the kiss and pushed Castiel away, gentler this time. „I know you're lying Castiel. You're shivering like a little wet puppy and, while that's incredibly arousing, I'd rather not have you crying about this tomorrow.“ Meg countered. 

Castiel grit his teeth and leaned on the cupboard, snatching the bottle of scotch before Meg could stop him.

„I'm not a baby, you don't have to coddle me.“ He said, taking a gulp and hissing at the burn. 

„Who said you were?“ Meg asked, annoyed. She took the bottle from him and poured the scotch into two glasses she took from the cupboard.

„I'm not...I'm not a child...I can...I can still be useful.“ He spat out in a lowered rasp, downing the whole glass in one take. Meg raised an eyebrow and hummed. She touched his hand and took the glass from him, pouring more of the liquid in it.

„You're acting like one now. And why the fuck do you even care if you're useful or not? I am a demon so you might expect this kind of thing from me, but even I'm not gonna judge your usefulness on how well you can lick pussy, if that's what you're getting at.“ 

Castiel couldn't bear to look her in the eyes so he kept his head bowed. Meg huffed and patted his back.

„I'll make you a deal, and you don't even have to sell your newly mortal soul or whatever it is you have now, okay?“ She offered and Castiel nodded stiffly. „We'll just make out a little and down this whole bottle and that's it, for tonight anyway.“

Castiel didn't answer immediately. He shifted his eyes from Meg to the floor. „Yes.“ He whispered and started walking towards the other room. Meg followed suit, glasses and bottle in hand. Meg downed most of the bottle herself, but Castiel was the first to fall asleep.

***

Castiel slept until early noon. Meg woke him up by pinching his cheek. 

„Light's up, gotta go.“ She said. Castiel blinked blearily at her, his body yet to shake the heaviness of alcohol induced sleep.

Meg rolled her eyes and got up herself, putting on her leather jacket. „I have to skip. You coming or not?“

Castiel had to take a moment to understand what she was offering. Meg rolled her eyes and exited the apartment. Castiel rushed towards her. „You gonna change or you gonna go like that?“ She asked.

He changed his clothes as quickly as he could and followed Meg down to her car. „We really have to get you some new clothes, I can't deal with the stench.“ 

Castiel nodded, only then realizing she wasn't about to dump him somewhere after giving him a ride. He entertained the idea of telling her to help him find Dean and Sam but decided against it almost as quickly as he thought of it. There was nothing for him there.

Sometime after Meg drove them out of town, Castiel fell asleep again. Flashing images of a young woman covered in blood and her sweet voice turning sinister startled him into waking up mere two hours later. Meg glanced at him while he found his bearings, trying to get his breathing under control. 

„Bad dream?“ Meg asked, not that it wasn't clear. 

„I think I've already met an angel who fell.“ Castiel rasped out, lifting himself up into a slightly more rigid sitting position.

„Oh, and, did you kill it?“ 

„I...I don't know.“ He answered, frowning, searching his mind for the missing memories. 

„It doesn't matter anyway, I hope you're battle ready Clarence, there's more where both of our enemies came from.“

Castiel knew this as surely as he knew he didn't enjoy sleeping, not when he couldn't sleep through one night without disjointed memories of his terribly long life coming back to remind him of everything he'd ever done wrong, of everyone he'd ever seen die or he himself had killed, and of horrors only angels and demons were privy to. At least when he woke up they were as distant in his mind as they were in time he could no longer bend. And, at least, against all odds, he wasn't alone to face them. Humanity, in all it's numbers, could be incredibly lonely but, here he was, in the most unlikely company he could think of, and yet he began to feel a curious sensation most alien to him. 

Castiel thought it might be comfort.


End file.
